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His Pretty Little Burden: Chapter 29

clay

I LOOSEN my tie as I turn the corner, mild impatience rolling up my spine; she isn’t curled up in my bed. Bolton texted me with her whereabouts, so I’m not surprised as I pull the theatre doors open and see her asleep on her side with her knees up, bowed in tight like a kitten on the recliner.

Stepping over to the dial on the wall, I dim the lights, drowning the space in near darkness. Only the movie streaming on the opposite wall lights up the area with sporadic hues of colour. The colours bathe her face.

Collecting a grey mink blanket from the back of Aurora’s usual spot, I stroll over to my little brother and lay it over him. He groans, flopping his head to the side, his face to the wall but not before I can make out the subtle deformities across his jawline. I grit my teeth, stroking the bruising before brushing a piece of his dark hair from his face. I should kill them all for agreeing to spar with him, but that would only send him to the illegal pits to beat out whatever demon has him eager to give and receive the blows.

After removing the papers from his lap, I twist to my little deer in a ball on her side. Her knees are high by her chest, her arms around them, looking ripe for the taking.

Mine to claim.

This girl makes me want to fuck her perfect pussy until it’s swollen and plump from the friction of being mine. Makes me need my cum inside her, dripping down her thigh. Need my teeth marks on her mouth. There should be no mistaking who she belongs to.

I tilt my head, gazing at her white knickers as they flash at me from beneath her hiked cream dress. I never want pain for her again. Not like she has been through already.

Hovering over her, I slide my fingers up her leg, her skin prickling and dancing under my touch. She is mine. I cast a shadow over her petite form. Following my fingers with my gaze, I explore from her ankle to her hip, caressing soft, pale flesh. My cock grows quickly under the sight, touch. I run two fingers between the valley where her legs lay on top of each other until I meet her pretty pussy. The shape of two softly formed lips outlined beneath thin white material. Stroking her plump folds, I watch her hips circle my meticulous movements. Dustin’s daughter likes it when I play with her pussy.

Awareness slowly seeps into her muscles, her body reacting to my touch, and then her mouth joins the waking world, releasing sweet, feminine moans.

I clasp my hand over her mouth.

When I dip my fingers beneath the silk that scarcely covers her and tunnel them between her tight lips, her eyes fly open, finding me leaning over her. My fingers in her.

Arousal and a hint of fear blankets her irises before they drift closed again and she takes my thrusts like a good girl. She trusts me. The vibrations of her moans against my palm have my cock so thick in my pants it throbs within its confinement.

Gritting my teeth, the need to feel her squeeze me as I fuck her burns through my muscles. She should be in my room.

So I can take her the way I intend to.

I press myself against the armrest to ebb the beating in my erection while I fuck her with my fingers. Her little pussy weeps around my thrusts, making each inward drive and outward pull easier than the last. My fingers are deliciously coated in her silky wetness. Her tiny hands circle around my forearm, nails digging into my skin as I work her.

I glance quickly at Xander. He is unmoving. Silent.

Looking back at my deer as she takes my fingers to my knuckles, I growl, angry that I must wait to feel these muscles milking my cock. Her pussy pulses and grips at me, holding me in and fighting against me, squeezing me out.

As I pick up pace, scooping and twisting, rubbing her walls as I draw out, her eyes open again. Wide like a doe blinking from above my hand. I narrow my gaze on her, and her chest pounds with nervousness. Sliding my thumb between her arse cheeks, clamping around what’s now mine, I press the pad to her arsehole, feeling it pulse. She likes that. Still working my fingers, I keep up my thorough exploration of the deepest, tightest parts of her pussy.

Her moans get louder, and I lower my face to the gap between her white-blonde hair and her neck. ‘Shhhh, sweet girl. Don’t wake up my brother.’

Her dual-coloured eyes glaze over as she rides me. She is close, and so very beautiful when gagged. With her cheeks puffed beneath the tight grip I have on her mouth. Muffled moans. Tears clinging to her lashes under the onslaught of waves of pleasure. Submissive. Curled up.

I like it a great deal. I watch as my fingers slide inside her through the delta below her arse, the way her knickers hook beside my penetration and grow wet from her arousal. ‘Your dress was hiked too high when I came in. Lay a blanket over yourself next time.’

I lick a tear from her cheek. ‘Come for me, little deer.’ On command, her orgasm flares through her, forcing her entire body to tighten and lock onto my fingers. Her back arches. Her nails drag along the cords in my forearm. Her muscles quake. And I keep giving my good girl what I want, reaping all her pleasure from her, wringing every shudder and spasm from her fatigued little figure.

Her muscles slowly loosen.

She sobs with emotion into my grasp. A spike of something similar hits me in the chest.

Goddamn it.

This girl.

This little addiction.

The only temptation I allow myself.

I lean down and scoop her lethargic body into my arms, cradling her lax, weightless frame to my chest. Accepting me as she should, her slim arms flop around my neck and she buries her head into my shirt. Blonde hair falls around us as I carry her up the steps and through the double doors, back to my room.

She is nearly unconscious, but I am so fucking hard my cock is dripping in anticipation. So I lay her on her back in the centre of the mattress, and she turns her head to the side, moaning in sleepy, pleasured delirium.

I undress and crawl up her body, dipping to drag my tongue along the smooth, creamy flesh of her legs before biting the seam of her pretty dress, dragging it up as I climb.

She aids me as I remove her clothes, rolling and moaning as her new cream dress comes off, her lacy bra and matching knickers, too. My erection swells further, smearing her thigh with my precum.

Sir,’ she exhales the word, half-awake for me.

Trailing my fingertips up the sides of her quivering body, over her hips and along the small tracks at her ribcage, I get to her face. Cupping her flushed cheek with one hand, I thread my other hand between our bodies and notch my cock at her entrance.

Her breath hitches.

She pouts her lips with intent, her eyes still closed even as her mouth eagerly begs for mine. For gentleness. Intimacy. Not something I usually offer… but fuck…I let her have what she wants. Leaning down, I touch my lips to hers. Kissing her open mouth, I lead our lips in a slow rhythm. Her mouth is carefree, careless, and so sweet, slanting around mine as though she doesn’t care about rhythm, only to taste me and have me taste her.

She’s dessert.

‘Are you ready to take my cock?’ I say into her mouth.

She circles my breadth with her slim legs, resting her heels on the backs of my thighs, pushing slightly to encourage me. ‘Yes…’ she moans, husky and airless.

‘Good girl. Only breathe my breath, sweet girl. Nothing enters this body tonight unless it comes from me.’

A rough groan escapes me as I sink into her, and she arches and curves her spine on a cry, taking me to my balls like the good girl I know she is for me. A young girl I should have never touched, but even God wouldn’t dare take her from me now.

The relief of being sheathed within her tight pussy is damn blinding, dark tendrils of desire breaching the edges of my vision. Madonna Mia. My hips work methodically between her thighs, pumping my cock in and out, but I keep my mouth tender on hers while she mewls around, gasping every time I hit her cervix, moaning each time I withdraw.

I don’t know how she takes me so deep with this small pelvis and that tight hole, but she does. And I know—relish—that each night when I fuck her, I can guarantee she’ll be walking slower, sultry, still feeling my deep, thorough thrusts throughout the succeeding day. ‘Yes. You’re doing so good, sweet girl. You’re taking this really well.’

My sweet girl.

My vulnerable girl.

Mine.

I breathe hard, laboured, into our kiss, and she relinquishes all control to me, inhaling my air, sheathing my cock, accepting my kisses, gripping my shoulders like my presence tethers her to the Earth, as though I’m her gravity.

She clutches the tight contracting muscles either side of my neck as I roll and angle but still give her that precious intimacy she so desires—no, deserves—even if it is hard for me to give. I give her my kiss.

She gives me herself.

As our lips move together and her body writhes, I force her to accept me deeper still. Awareness of my feelings, of my fear, of losing her or failing her, sweeps into me like blood on a shirt. My pulse thrashes in my neck, heart punching my ribcage, not unlike it does when I wake from the vision of Bronson tied to that chair. Violent fear…

I don’t like it.

She drags me from my concern with the movement of her lips… the way they slide over mine, sucking my heavy exhales between them, accepting my command that she will need me like her next breath… is indescribable.

Needing to be closer somehow, I slow down my thrusts, steady the roll of my hips, and curve her little pelvis as I stay deep. I cup both her cheeks and rest on my forearms to give her mouth more attention.

She whimpers with emotion, and I groan with something similar. The full length of my body touches the entire smooth length of hers—both of us sliding together in our perspiration.

These lips… These fucking pretty lips… I eat at her mouth, the sweetest mouth, with the sweetest questions.

She is utterly soul commanding.

I won’t let her go.

I’ll keep her even if she hates me after what I do. After the lies. I’ll keep her anyway.

With that thought, my balls contract and tighten. Heat bubbles in my abdomen as I tense, thrust faster, milking myself on her clinging pussy. As I angle myself just right, she screams, pulsating with her own orgasm, and at the same time I fill her with cum, groaning and growling because I’m pissed she has made me feel like this.

I can’t let her go.

And I can’t stop kissing her, slow and soft. Her lips are like—fuck me. They are like peace and comfort.

Fucking comfort.


AS I STARE at the ceiling with my hands cupping the back of my neck, Fawn lays beside me, her arm slung over my waist, head resting on my bicep. This is not good. Nothing good can come from my feelings for her. Lead weights sink inside me, as if she has found her way into the very heart pumping for this cold stone soul. I will still be using her when Dustin shows up. I will… She won’t be harmed, at least not physically. Dammit.

‘Did you speak with Landon?’

Her question hits my temples, but I don’t react. ‘Yes. I paid him to leave town,’ I say smoothly, running the tips of my fingers through her pretty blonde hair. I’m not partial to blondes… Fucksake.

‘Did you find the recording?’ she asks, her voice mouse-like, seemingly aware she is poking the bear but risking it anyway. A wolf, my deer.

‘Yes.’

‘What?’ She sits up, her hair dropping down around her shoulders, the long length cascading over her pert breasts. I brush the strands away from her nipples so I can see the way they pebble like bullets. ‘Where is it?’ she presses.

I swipe my thumb over one and she catches my wrist. I scowl at her hand. Raising my gaze, I glare at her through my lashes. That’s mine to play with, little deer.

She shrinks slightly as I reach for her hand. Frowning, I unclasp her fingers from my wrist and palm a handful of her small breast with smooth authority.

Leaning forward, I take her bulleted nipple between my teeth. She trembles and moans, both a protest and a plea. Feeding her hands up my neck and into my hair, she cups my head, holding me to her.

Please.’ She whimpers, and it’s both a sweet feminine sound that provokes my cock to want to fill her and a broken desperate sound that contracts my muscles, wanting to protect her from everything. Her own self-discovery.

The truth.

I lick her nipple before releasing it, the tiny tube more red and flushed from my attention. When I sit back, her hands slip from my hair and drop to her sides. ‘It’s gone,’ I state. ‘I destroyed it. All that mat—’

No,’ she gasps, and my fists ball in tight. She covers her sound with her hand and shakes her head slowly. ‘No. I wanted to watch it.’

Outwardly stoic, I say, ‘As far as I’m concerned—’

‘What about what concerns me?’

Blood simmers through my forehead, and I grab hold of her jaw to silence her. ‘If you interrupt me again, sweet girl, I’ll lay you over my knee—’ Releasing her quickly, I lean back and focus on her incredible dual-coloured eyes as they puddle with tears. Fuck.

Sighing my agitation out, crumbling my composure under her sweet gaze, I ground the only truth she needs. ‘Benji fell. You don’t need to see that.’

Nodding, the information settles into her gaze, and then another spark of inquiry flares through her. ‘And the father?’

I grind my molars, jaw muscles pulsing under the pressure while I will that Butcher head of mine to calm. I touch the soft white skin on her cheek. ‘The man who raises him is his father, Fawn. You will accept that.’

She blinks at me. Her line of sight shifts over my shoulder, eyes losing focus as thoughts sweep across them.

I stare at her. ‘Can you accept that, sweet girl?’

She doesn’t waver; her eyes are fixed within a memory. ‘Was it Benji?’

Fuck it. Gritting my teeth, I tell her what is best for her, what will keep her at peace. ‘Yes.’

She looks at me, and I bite back a growl when she says, ‘Was he gentle? Did he tell them to leave? Did he kiss me?’

Fuck! I have never wanted to tear the entire fucking world apart with my bare hands, bring the houses and mountains and forests down. Reap all the peace and fucking happiness from others merely to offer them all to her on a shiny platter.

She can have it all.

Every damn thing.

This lie scorches. It’ll scar. But I’ll take it all for her. ‘Yes,’ I hiss, the words singeing my tongue. I lift my hand to sweep her blonde hair over her shoulder and imagine how I might have taken her the first time. Had I been young and in love with her at the time. Had I been emotionally available. ‘He told his brothers to leave. That you were his focus now. Only you. He wasn’t always gentle because he was too overwhelmed by you, little deer, but he took you thoroughly. He was never going to let you go, so he held you all night, still inside you.’ The words come out easily because I’m no longer talking about him.

Her eyes move to meet mine, green and blue and filled with trust and vulnerability and, Christ…

She squints, panning her gaze over my face in a seeking kind of way. As though she knows I was talking about me. ‘I wish he was yours,’ she says, and my heart aches inside my chest. Aches for her.

And I bite back a wince. ‘He is.’

Fuck.

I don’t know what that fucking means, but I said it, and I meant it. He is mine.

She is mine.

Needing to redirect her from this concern, I say, ‘I’ve taken care of everything. I will take care of you. Both of you. Are you worried?’

She doesn’t answer, so I shuffle and cup the back of her head, gently cradling her. ‘Do you want to please me, sweet girl?’

She swallows thickly and nods with hints of uncertainty that instantly make me hard. I stroke my erection.

Her shoulder blades roll as she crawls down my body. I keep a grip on the root of my cock and pump gently as she encloses the tip with her soft inexperienced lips.

I squeeze my precum up with my fist, the rush of sensation making me groan. She hums and licks, enjoying the hint of what I could give her. Madonna Mia. I need this.

Need to control this situation.

She shouldn’t have to worry.

I don’t want her concerned about anything. I gently trail my fingers along her shoulders and down her arms, her soft muscles responding, twitching with delight. Finding her crown, I brush her silky blonde hair with my fingers. ‘You have been through a lot. Too much. And you have done it all by yourself. You didn’t let life break you, but you also won’t allow it to embrace you. You’re scared. I need you to trust me, little deer. I will do the worrying for you. Let them all go now. All the questions and concerns about that night. Let them all go.’

As her mouth gets keener, my breathing becomes heavy, and I drop my head back, stifling the need to growl her name. ‘You’re doing really good,’ I pant. With one hand in her hair and the other meeting her wet mouth as I jerk myself, I have her completely submissive.

And content.

Closing my eyes, I pump my shaft while her exploratory lips do more for me than any skilled mouthfucking ever has.

The sweetness of this girl… Madonna Mia.

I open my eyes and see a sparkling blue and vivid green gaze staring up at me while she mouths the tip of my cock as though my girl is eager for more flavour. I release my shaft so I don’t get too close, too feral over the sight of her contently sucking my erection. ‘You’re so pretty. These eyes,’—I use two fingers to brush down her forehead, dropping below her brows, forcing her eyelids shut as I travel over them with my fingertips—’are a thing of enchantment.’

I watch her hold me in her mouth for several minutes, exhaustion slowly creeping into her eyes. She rests her head on my abdomen, batting her weighted lashes with her mouth still enclosing my cock. Perfect. She’s perfect. ‘That’s enough. Come up here.’


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